


I Had to Find the Passage Back (To the Place I was Before)

by DoorENGray



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Slow Burn, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-10 16:49:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5593630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoorENGray/pseuds/DoorENGray
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Does it make you feel powerful," she continued, eyes devoid of the timid uncertainty that held her in its grip all night, "knowing that even though I have super strength and super speed," and in a flash, Kara used that speed to come to stand behind the other woman.</p>
<p>Lips level with Cat's ear, Kara leaned in to conclude, voice barely a whisper "you're still the one with all the power in this room?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Uncertain of where they stand, Kara comes to Cat to conclude their conversation from the balcony.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Hotel California by the Eagles.

2:17 a.m. 

The green hue of the digital clock on the bedside table glowed out into the stillness of the bedroom. The lone occupant of the bed stirred, covers ruffled to her waist, her pale skin stark against the black of the sheets.

Sleep had not come easy this night for Cat Grant. After the day's revelations, questions reeled through the reporter's inquisitive mind, not quieting until the late hours of the evening. So many questions still unanswered, so much left to uncover. Sleep had only come when the exhaustive depths of the unknown and still undiscovered was left to the ever expanding. 

The night remained still around her sleeping form, the natural quiet of the night blanketing the room. The green glow morphed ever so slightly. 2:18 a.m.

A whisper of the covers signified the beginnings of movement, Cat slowly stirring into consciousness. A delicate sigh fell from parted lips, and eyes blinked open to the moonlight illuminating the the foot of the bed. Eyes slowly adjusting, she took in the room, the streaming moonlight that bathed the far reaches of the room...and the long shadow cast in the middle of the floor. 

A soft rustling drew her eyes to the open doors of the balcony. Arms crossed over her chest, a figure stood leaned against the doorframe, and though the figure was backlit by the moonlight, face cast in shadow, the red cape swayed by the gentle breeze was unmistakable. 

"Miss Grant," Kara murmured quietly, a gentle disruption of the night's tranquility.

Raising her head off of the pillow, weight resting on her forearms, Cat took a minute to adjust to the sudden jolt of alertness from the girl's presence. Kara had yet to move from her position in the doorway, allowing Cat a minute of composure.

"Supergirl," Cat spoke, a statement more than a question. Eyes searching out the blue gaze she could not yet see, she continued, "You're here."

"You knew I would come," Kara intoned, voice different than that which Cat was accustomed. Her voice was gentle, lacking the timid meekness of her assistant, yet missing the authoritative confidence that Supergirl presented through all of their previous encounters. 

"Or do you have a habit of sleeping with the balcony doors wide open?" Kara continued, and although her face was still in shadow, Cat could hear the hint of the smile that was there and knew she had been caught. 

A slight lift to the corners of her own mouth, Cat said, "I suspected you might come." Her gaze lowered to the bedspread, palm absentmindedly splaying open and closed against the sheets, before she continued, "I had a feeling our last conversation is unfinished." 

Glancing back up, full smile playing over her lips now, she teased, "before you left, it seemed as if," a brief pause before she continued coyly, unable to resist, "the cat got your tongue?"

Cat knew full well her assistant was more than susceptible to the rosy color of a blush when she was flustered. She idly wondered how it would look paired with the blue of her suit now. 

Kara shook her head briefly. Even the remnants of sleep couldn't dull Cat's innate wit and sass. Pushing off the doorframe, steeling herself, Kara said, "We need to talk," her voice regaining some of the confidence that seemed fleeting moments ago.

Cat rolled her eyes and let out a sigh, sitting upright against the headboard now. "This couldn't have waited until morning?" she continued. With an air of nonchalance, she added, "You've seen me when my morning coffee isn't hot. You think it wise to continue when I haven't had any caffeine at all?" she paused to level an displeased glare at the woman in front of her before pressing on. 

"And seriously, waking me at this hour, the bags under my eyes tomorrow will be bigger than Lois Lane's ego, not to mention I'll look like that toad faced..."

Her words abruptly fell silent after Kara stepped fully into the room, her face no longer hidden in shadow of moonlight. The exhaustion, the discord evident in her posture and face caused Cat to pause, a sharp intake of breath at the sight, not quite a gasp, but halting her tirade nonetheless. The same disquiet that had plagued Kara's features earlier out on the office balcony was painted over her features once more. 

"Miss Grant, please," Kara said, voice broken with desperation and burdened with worry. Standing in the middle of the room, Kart felt bare, just as so when Cat had asked her to remove her glasses. Would she feel so vulnerable every time now in the presence of the other woman? At the mere thought of her? The thought had raged through her mind like an ocean wave over the past few hours, gaining ground with every passing moment of uncertainty that the night held, now cresting as she stood before her.

Collecting her tumult thoughts, Kara continued, "You were never supposed to know who I really am." Kara turned her gaze away, reminiscent of earlier in the night. She took in the room for the first time, a stall of the difficult admission to come--the bookshelf in the corner that held several of Miss Grant's awards; the picture of her and Carter, the brilliant smile Miss Grant rarely ever showed at the office on full display on the nearby dresser.

A deep breath later, Kara said softly, "but now you do." 

Kara shifted her weight from foot to foot, the nervousness in her movements reflecting the unease resonating through her entire form.

"I don't..." Kara hesitated, taking a moments pause. "I don't know where we go from here," Kara whispered, voiced tinged with a hint of sadness and trepidation. Gaze turned back to Cat, Cat saw the same emotions coursing in her eyes. And Cat wasn't sure, but perhaps she detected a sense of loss in her voice? 

"You've made your empire revealing everyone else's secrets," Kara let her sentence trail off, taking a careful step closer to the bed. Cat could garner a guess where the conversation was headed, the unspoken conclusion to the statement implied through Kara's apprehension. 

"It's the scoop of a lifetime, surely you must realize that," Cat sighed, staring up at the girl in front of her. And she knew Kara had worked with her long enough to know so. Such a revelation would be the biggest headline for CatCo since the approval of Supergirl herself. 

Kara considered the woman before her for a moment. The relaxed recline on the bed, the soft rise and fall of her chest, breathing even, unafraid. Unaware of the true gravity of the situation, the dangerous disruption of balance she had brought about. 

"The people I work with won't allow you to compromise my identity," Kara said vaguely. "My real one," Kara clarified after a beat.

Confused, Cat narrowed her eyes in questioning, "the people you work with?" 

"You think I can do this alone?" Kara replied, a touch of disbelief coloring her words. "I could have, if saving the city was my only job," Kara mused, a fond smile touching her lips as she went on, teasing lilt to her tone, "but you see, I have a boss that demands my full, undivided attention."

Kara allowed herself a moment to appreciate the pleased look that danced across Cat's face, and the warm feeling she felt spread through her at being the cause. But the grin at the fondness she held for her boss quickly faded once more from her features once she remembered the nature of their little midnight rendezvous. 

"The agency that I work with," Kara spoke with steadiness, "they'll do whatever is necessary to make sure I can keep helping people and protect this city." Kara wasn't ready to fully disclose her partnership with the DEO. But surely the purposeful ambiguity was enough to cause Cat pause to consider the threat. 

Pacing the floor, Kara continued, "The only people who know are people I've trusted, people I've chosen to tell." Eyebrows scrunched in contemplation, Kara went on, "Well, except for James, he kind of already knew who I was, even before I did. I mean, before I chose to become Supergirl. So I didn't really tell him, per say, but he was already keeping my secret. I didn't even know I had a secret to keep yet, other than being different, but the whole Superg..."

A sound of a throat clearing interrupted Kara's musings. "You're rambling..." Cat interjected. 

"...Right" Kara murmured, eyebrows shot up into her hairline. "Sorry." Cat's grin widened. If there was any doubt that the woman before her and her assistant were one in the same, it proved futile now. 

"The point is," Kara began again, returning to her position in the middle of the room, attention back to the woman resting on the bed, "that you're the first person that's discovered my secret that I haven't trusted to tell." Taking a deep breath, point forthcoming, Kara continued, "the people I work with are concerned that you can't be trusted, that you'll destroy the secrecy we've worked so hard to maintain..."

"...that you'll destroy me," Kara finished in a whisper, looking Cat fully in the eyes. 

"They wanted to take you in, make sure the situation could be controlled, that you could be handled," and with this Kara paused to let the statement sink in. "Before you had the chance to run the story," Kara continued just as softly, watching as Cat's eyes widened at the admission as she came to further understand the reason Kara stood before her. "But I convinced them not to," Kara said. 

Alex had been hell bent on bringing Cat in, making sure she wouldn't compromise Kara. It took an hour to convince both her and Hank to let her try and more diplomatic approach first. Kara could appreciate the protectiveness that came so naturally to Alex, but she needed to figure this one out in a way that didn't completely ruin the life she so carefully constructed.

But if Kara couldn't get through to her, to make her see reason--she didn't want to consider the alternative.

Discerning through the newly revealed information, a subtle twist to the elegant neck before her as Cat's head shifted alerted Kara to the forthcoming question. "How can you be so sure that I haven't already prepared the story to run?" 

"They're worried that you may be a threat," Kara implored her to understand, and she hesitated in taking a step forward. "They've been keeping an eye on you all night since the moment my phone rang on the balcony outside of your office."

"Am I in danger?" Cat questioned suddenly. "Is Carter in," she paused suddenly, before gasping, "Carter..."

On full alert, Cat brushed the covers off, throwing her legs over the edge of the bed, before she felt the bed dip beside her.

Kara was at her side faster than she knew, quick to assure Cat. "He's asleep," she murmured gently. Unthinkingly she took Cat's hand as she turned to face her, and continued, "He's perfectly fine, I promise". Kara's head dipped ever so slightly as her eyes searched to connect to the startled woman's. "His heart rate and breathing have been steady for the past twenty minutes." Kara assured her, her eyes imploring Cat to trust her. "He's safe." 

Cat's own racing heart calmed at the confirmation, her flight reflexes returning to settled as she allowed Kara's reassurances to wash over her. Once her panic subsided, she allowed herself a smile. In her rush to calm her, Kara hadn't realized she overplayed her hand.

Yet.

Cat glanced at the clock. 2:25. 

Smirk in place, Cat questioned, "Twenty minutes? I haven't been awake that long."

And somehow the idea of the blonde watching her--or watching over her, Cat considered both--as she slept, resonated something within Cat. 

Kara turned forward, her hand returning back to her side from its position covering Cat's own. She lowered her eyes to the floor, looking away, and remained silent, contemplative.

Her boss gave the phrase The Cat caught the canary... A whole new meaning. Especially with that smirk.

"I didn't know what I was going to say," Kara whispered moments later, hands gripping the edge of the bed as if prepared to push off and run. It would be easier, to run, Kara mused silently. 

The fragile balance that held her, all the parts of her--the superhero longing to do good, the girl desperate for a sense of normalcy, the assistant that constantly strived to please her boss--threatened to unravel. Kara felt cast into an ocean of uncertainty, without a life preserver, no land in sight in any direction. And the only salvation she knew could save her was in the woman before her.

And she still didn't know what to say.

There was too much to cover. The obvious trepidation of what would happen now that Cat knew-- would she be revealed to the world? The feeling of foolishness she felt at allowing herself to be found out? The loss of normalcy she was sure to incur? Anger? Fear? Loss?

Kara wished then that she were a poet, or a writer, if only to express her turmoil with a shred of elegance. Or grace, perhaps.

...at this point, she'd settle for at least coherence.

She didn't know where to start, or if there was a starting point much less. Emotions were a funny thing, she mused. The idea of them, each fit into their own little label, as if they were strands of string that, while running together in the same direction, could be easily separated, dissected. 

They were more like paint colors, bleeding together, causing a dissonance of chaos within her. 

"Kara," a hand gently gripping her forearm pulled Kara from her thoughts. 

The clamor of Kara's thoughts quieted enough for her to register the gentle touch and the soothed tone from the other woman. "So you are capable of using my name correctly," Kara said, a please note to her voice. 

"Oh please," At the challenging lift of Kara's eyebrow, Cat continued, "If I use your name correctly, I have to use everyone else's name correctly." Exasperated, she added, "Do you really think I have enough time in the day for that?" 

At Kara's incredulous look, she amended, "Besides, it would imply that I care." 

Kara fumbled briefly for a response, some shred of whit or revelation, but settled on letting the silence stretch once more. It was an appeal to Cat's caring that Kara had hoped would save her from their current predicament. 

Over the past few weeks, Kara had felt that she and the other woman had grown closer, a tentative, delicate trust building between them. Except now that trust was shattered. 

Maybe.

She'd be a lot more sure if she could actually find out whether showing up to work tomorrow morning was out of the question. 

"You're different," Cat noted, a question hovering beneath the surface. Cat unconsciously angled her body slightly toward the younger woman as she appraised her. "You're a babbling mess at the office," she noted, before she considered, "adorable, yes, but still." 

At this she paused, eyes drawn to the symbol on Kara's chest, the soft glow of the moonlight complementing the blue hue of Kara's suit. "When you're in the suit, you're more confident," she pressed on, her progression of thought taking a more definitive shape as she spoke. "You speak with authority, conviction," she continued.

"And yet here you are," she paused for a brief moment, hands gesturing to the form of the woman before her in consideration. "The hesitancy, the timidness," she trailed off.

"Because it's not Supergirl you'll ruin with this," Kara said, rising from the bed and turning away from the unnerving gaze that always seemed to set her on edge.

She took a step toward the balcony, needing to escape the stifling confines of the room, the stifling confines of her emotions. The admission was too close to the truth, too full of feeling and emotion, too fragile to withstand the destructive force of a passionate Cat Grant, mind set to task.

Cat observed the other girl stiffen, her posture righting itself into a determined poise. Still faced away, Kara declared, "Supergirl will still save the city, help those in need." Her tone turned cooler, the nature of her burden weighing heavily on her words as she continued, "My enemies will grow stronger, knowing who I care about, who they can hurt to get to me." 

"I'll have to be stronger, faster," she paused for a moment before she went on, "better." Her voice remained strong, resolute.

"Supergirl will be fine," she determined, finally turning to face Cat. "But I won't be." 

Cat could see the fostering pain in her eyes. She seemed to consider the admission, before she questioned, "you won't be?" stressing the first word, as if to question how the hero before her and the woman she knew at the office were two separate entities. 

"There's more to me than just the super hero," Kara shot back. "After working for you for years, you can't see that?" she added, the pain in her eyes growing ever the slightest at the thought that Cat might not.

Kara paced to the far side of the room, in a veiled attempt to conceal the pervasive hurt that threatened to overwhelm her. "I just became Supergirl, but I've always been Kara," she stated, before allowing a poignant pause between them. "I was Kara to you much longer than I've been Supergirl," she murmured softer, Cat straining to hear the quiet declaration.

"Who I am to the world, to my family, friends," she continued on "to you," she added softer, before she drew in a measured breath. "I can't always separate it out into black and white." Kara felt on the edge of something--of what she could not quite place. "it's all a part of me." 

Truth? Resolution? Undoing? Whatever end she felt was to come about, it was here. Now. She couldn't turn away from it, couldn't run from it any more. 

"And you're threatening to tear me apart," she admitted softly, defeated. 

Cat moved to stand for the first time, the rustling of the bedspread as she rose alerting Kara to such. Turning to face her once more, Kara took in Cat's form truly for the first time that night--the white camisole, and the way it fell delicately over her form, suggesting it to be made of silk. Just like her sheets. 

Cat Grant was a woman of taste, of elegance. Only the finest everything. Naturally the silk camisole she slept in would cost more than a month of Kara's rent. The camisole that dusted the tops of her thighs, how it whispered over her skin with the rise and fall of her chest, the pale skin it left uncovered...

"You could have them come whisk me away, to some unnamed hole in the ground to keep me quiet," Cat said, hands moving to rest on her hips.

"You're right." Kara acquiesced. "Simple and effective," Kara continued, before an upward touch to her lips took residence on her face once more. "You've always been a fan of both." 

"You can," Cat stated, her tone growing more confident as she sensed she had the upper hand, "but you won't."

"No," Kara answered simply.

"Why risk it?" Kara could practically hear the report's mind spooling to work. "You would rather risk asking me not to tell your secret, and turn away the biggest scoop since it was speculated that Lois Lane had liposuction," Cat said, her voice more a wondered befuddlement rather than a question.

"She didn't," Cat clarified with a roll of her eyes, considering the woman who had always gotten the better of her. "Not even plastic surgery could fix that," she added, but with a hint of, was it fondness Kara heard? 

Kara once remembered seeing a photo of Cat and Lois together in the foyer of the house, late one night when she had come to Cat's home to deliver the week's important documents. There was a bottle of something in Cat's hand that was spraying out to the unseen edges of the photo. Champagne perhaps.

She didn't know why, but the idea of bridesmaids came to mind.

Hmm. She'd have to ask Clark about that one.

"But you'd rather risk exposure by asking me, rather than by forcing me." Kara was brought back to the present at the confident words directed toward her.

When Cat Grant smelled blood in the water...well...Kara would've much preferred to face off against Jaws than take on her boss.

She was backed into a corner so to speak, leaking blood like a water fountain, ship sinking into the icy depths, call off the search, no hope for survivors...

Being the canary, Kara thought, simply sucks. 

"I taught you better than that Kara," Cat drove on, her tone adopting the shade of patronization that Kara was so accustomed to at the office. "To go after what you want," she continued to push. 

Kara felt the whispers of her tamed anger reach up through her, called forth from the growing fear, the anxiety. The twinge of self doubt that tone of Cat's provoked. 

Cat's tone took on a harsher quality, her hands now on her hips as elegant dominance radiated from her form. "You won't get anywhere in this world unless you take control for yourself. You have untamable power, yet you refuse to use it." 

"I can't!" Kara's voice rose, her hands balled into fists where they rested at her sides. Seeing Cat gaze toward the closed bedroom door, anticipating her thoughts, she listened carefully, and only heard the silence of the night between them. "He's still asleep," she murmured, quite once more, answering Cat's unspoken concerns. 

Kara faced away from her, looking out through open balcony doors, trying desperately to regain a sense of calm, to reign in the frustration. The fleeting stillness and calm she felt earlier, leaning up against the door watching Cat sleep peacefully, felt a lifetime ago. She took toward the balcony, standing in the doorframe, bringing the moon in all of its fullness within sight once more. Kara found herself wishing instead for the sun, longing for the strength that came with it. 

She closed her eyes, remarking to herself the paradox of the situation. To long for the sun--to feel apart without its presence, as if a piece of her went with it every time it set; and yet, to feel afraid of its return, and the changes it would surely bring upon it's next rise. 

She could almost feel the sun's warmth with her eyes closed just so. But blinking her eyes open once again, she found only the lonely, cool glow of the moon. 

Cat spoke of power. The woman exuded dominance. It radiated from her with every step, every word, every employee she sent running and screaming from her office. 

Cat Grant was seduced by power--the possession of it, the feeling from it, the dominance that defined it, the control...

If she couldn't be made to see reason, perhaps an appeal of a different sort was in order. 

Maybe it was time to give her what she really wanted.

"You're the one who thrives from power," Kara began, voice strong for the first time that evening as she faced the older woman, a renewed conviction set to her features.

"Tell me, Miss Grant," Kara started, voice growing in confidence as she took a step closer, drawing her further into the room.

"Does it make you feel powerful," she continued, eyes devoid of the timid uncertainty that held her in its grip all night, "knowing that even though I have super strength and super speed," and in a flash, Kara used that speed to come to stand behind the other woman.

Lips level with Cat's ear, Kara leaned in to conclude, voice barely a whisper "you're still the one with all the power in this room?"

At the soft gasp that fled Cat's lips, Kara circled around Cat, a breath away from touching her. "That you could have me on my knees," Kara continued, passing in front of her, before her circling continued, "begging you not to tell my secret?" 

"To know that you had that control," Kara breathed out, coming to stop in front of the other woman, "that power," she elaborated, "over one of the most powerful people on the planet."

Eyes locked to the ones in front of her, on the precipice of conclusion--of resolution--searching out the truth, Kara whispered, barely audible and with a hint of resignation, "would that be enough?"

The silence stretched on between them. Outside, an airplane could be heard in the distance. The warm night breeze gently wafted in through the open door. 

Green glow shifted, another minute gone by.

And the night trudged on.

But something struck Cat, appealed to something unnamed, not yet quantified into something definable. The desperation, the pleading, the vulnerability, the protectiveness..."You won't hurt me," Cat breathed out, eyes searching the blue ones before her for the truth.

"That's why you haven't let them come vet me, why you won't let them take me away," she continued, emboldened. "You're willing to risk everything," Cat concluded, voice gentle despite the conviction with which she spoke, "because you don't want to hurt me," she spoke with resolute finality, not even a whisper of a question evident in her tone.

"It would be easier to," Kara murmured softly, eyes cast downward, knowing that with the truth evident, the only escape was through the woman before her. "But yes."

And somehow Cat knew, even before she asked, that Kara had always protected her, Supergirl or not. They touched briefly on the tendrils of caring that started sprouting between them earlier in the day, but it hadn't yet been given such direct form.

Kara gave her power. But she also, for the first time in a long time, Cat thought, made her felt truly cared for. 

Not that she would admit it. 

But for now, maybe that was enough.

"Kara" Cat began, drawing the younger woman's eyes back to her gaze. "Your secret is safe." 

At the exhale of breath Kara released, Cat went on, "It always was."

"Miss Grant," Kara whispered, relief evident in her voice. 

Stepping past the younger woman, her arm the barest of touches as she passed by, Cat strode out to the open balcony to look out into the night. The warm night breeze ruffled her camisole as it, gently teasing her blonde curls. 

If Kara wasn't so preoccupied with her newfound relief, her conscious mind would've found Cat a sight, standing in the night in her white camisole with the moonlight casting her in a soft glow.

Good thing Freud was right about that unconscious thing. Filed away for later, it wouldn't be the last time Kara contemplated those thoughts.

Cat could hear Kara take up residence in the doorway once more before she continued. "Supergirl is my creation," Cat said, pride enriched in her words as she her arms stretched out to take hold of the balcony banister. "I named her, gave her voice," she went on, her statement trailing off into the open air.

She turned around to face Kara, "Supergirl didn't save me yesterday" she recalled. "It was you," she spoke quietly. 

"You're mine too," she concluded, voice strong with certainty, yet, the softer tone that had encased her words all night was just as present. 

Kara thought she could get used to this tone--this softer side of Cat, quiet strength, yet gentle--that she rarely got to see.

"And honestly Kara, at this rate I'm going to need you to wear a name tag to know which side of you I should be addressing," and with that she drew a quiet laugh from the younger woman before her. 

Cat's eyes softened, along with her voice, as she murmured, "Or maybe you could just teach me," 

A tender moment of silence passed between them, ladened with unspoken understanding and perhaps something more, before Cat resumed her confident poise. "But you Kara, you were mine first," she said, finishing her earlier thoughts. 

The trace of softness present in her tone was no longer, replace by a harsh conviction as Cat concluded, "No one ruins what's mine, Kara." She paused for a moment, before she noted with certainty, "not even me." 

Kara's eyes closed in relief, a breath of air escaping and her posture falling to ease. "Thank you, Miss Grant," she replied, the look shared between them still eclipsing the quiet intensity of the night. 

A moment later, her ear piece clicked to life. Kara thought this was the hardest challenge of the night--not the fight with Non, nor facing Cat in her desperation, the delicate balance of her life threatening to shatter--but looking away from the woman before her, breaking the unspoken intensity that had reached a peak between them. 

Eyes lowered in concentration, her sister's voice informed her that Non had been located again, her attention now required elsewhere. 

"I have to go," Kara sighed, a whisper of regret in her tone.

Cat's grin returned as she replied, "I'm sure it's very important," mimicking their conversation from earlier in the evening.

Stepping forward, bringing herself beside Cat, Kara moved to the edge of the balcony, preparing to take flight.

"Kara," the sound of Cat's voice and a warm hand on her arm halted Kara's movements further, causing her to glance sideways to take in the other woman.

"I do know." Cat assured her gently, her hand stroking down the strong arm beneath it in further reassurance. Softer now, she clarified, "I know that there's more to you than just the super hero." 

She might have seen a hint of a blush creep up over Kara's face. 

Or she may have been too distracted by the brilliant smile she received in return. 

Cat held Kara's gaze for a moment longer before moving forward, returning through the doorway, "8 a.m," she intoned with her normal authority as she made her way back toward the bed. "And my coffee better be hot," she concluded with a smile of her own firmly in place.

Red cape billowing in the gentle breeze, Kara spoke softly for the last time of the evening, tone much lighter now that the unpleasant heaviness of the night's situation had been resolved for the moment, "Of course."

And then softer, "Goodnight, Miss Grant."

And she was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so unbelievably overwhelmed by the love this story has gotten, I've decided to continue it.
> 
> This really got away from me. This was originally intended to be more of a filler chapter than anything. That ship sailed after about 3,000 words. I am loathe to consider this a filler chapter, but if it reads as such, it's because I didn't want to jump straight to the conclusion without allowing what started between them in the last chapter to develop more.
> 
> Apparently there's much more room for development than I thought.
> 
> Enjoy!

_They're not quite sure what's developing between them._  


* * *

The morning after their moonlight encounter, the delicate balance between them splintered the slightest.

Cat had wanted to know everything. She peppered Kara with questions at every turn of the morning, rearranging her morning schedule to give them the opportunity to talk.

But Kara was naively misguided as to the reason.

"The world wants to know how it feels to be Supergirl," Cat said plainly when Kara had hesitated too long in contemplation of her answer.

Kara had expected that there would be some form of inquisition, some greater search for answers. She had innocently, or perhaps foolishly, hoped that it would be derived from Cat's own interest in her, wanting to know the woman she had worked with so closely better.

The world. Kara hadn't realized she was addressing the world.

In retrospect, she really should've known. But the thought now caused her stomach to twist unpleasantly.

Kara reached a hand up to fiddle with her glasses, her brows furrowed. "I thought you said my secret was safe with you," Kara questioned unsure, her arms then protectively folding over her chest in a measure of how guarded she had just become.

She found herself afraid at what the answer might be.

"Oh I won't tell them who you are," Cat started before looking down at the papers spread out on the table between them, "but that doesn't mean that there isn't a good story here."

"A good stor–" Kara began, before the weight of Cat's words registered.

Right around the same time Kara feels heart bottom out in her chest. She had always wondered how phrases such as those could be used–how could the orator truly know what a bottomed out heart felt like? But at the sinking feeling of devastation she felt, she knew there to be something to the words.

So that's what this had all been about.

Kara stood up quickly from her position on the office couch, her hands flying rampantly to match her outraged tone.

"Did anything I say last night mean something," she questioned as she began to pace the room, before she added, her tone even further incensed, "did anything you said?"

Her pace returned her to stand before Cat once more, as she leveled Cat with a glare after the woman had finally looked up from her research before she spit out, "Or are you just looking for a story?"

"Oh please Kara," Cat said patronizingly. At the wounded look that colored Kara's face, Cat's look softened for a moment, before it was replaced with professional stoicism, "it did, but don't be so naive as to forget who we are."

"Let's be realistic, Kara," Cat began, her eyes flicking briefly toward the television line wall, an unconscious nod to her success, before her eyes settled on Kara.

"I am the most powerful, influential, good looking human in this city, and you are the most popular story since Maxwell Lord declared himself an eligible bachelor again," she deduced, a look of disgust briefly coloring her features as she though of her brief dalliance with the man.

That had been years ago. Clearly, not enough. Young and stupid, young and stupid.

"Just because I know who you are doesn't mean I can ignore what you are," she said, her eyes returning to the words in front of her.

"What I am?" Kara asked incredulously.

"Supergirl sells," Cat spoke, flipping the page of the article she was reading, "you aren't just a story, you're the story." She looked up, her seated position causing her to stare up at the distressed younger woman, "And yes, Kara, you know I never turn down a good story."

Kara's struggle to grapple with words afforded Cat the chance to continue.

"The people of the world may not be ready to know the truth," Cat sighed. "They need to believe that their heroes are enduring and immune to the affliction of the human condition," she trailed off, head titled in contemplation.

"But they'll pay to get to know their hero," she said the last part with a refined certainty.

And Kara should have known better. She should have known that despite how much she wanted to trust the woman before her, that trust would only extend so far.

Cat had promised to keep her secret, only Kara hadn't thought of the other ones she could expose. The feeling of foolish vulnerability that Kara felt being to take hold moments before threatened to overwhelm her.

"If you'll excuse me, Miss Grant, I really should be getting back to my desk," Kara excused herself, needing to get away before she became completely undone.

Cat sighed, annoyed "We're not done here–"

"Actually, we are," and Kara stormed off.  


* * *

_There was something vulnerable and raw and real about their interactions that was both refreshing and terrifying._  


* * *

"It's lonely sometimes," Kara murmured. Her voice conveyed a sadness so heartbreakingly vulnerable that it caused Cat to take a step forward her before she found pause, remembering her place.

Cat found Kara seated on the landing outside her office, her feet draped over the one arm of the chair, back against the other as she looked out to stars.

She knew the tone of their conversation to be serious when she saw Kara's face empty of her glasses.

"Haven't we had enough emotions filled conversations for the week," Cat questioned with a huff of annoyance, still incensed from Kara's abrupt departure earlier.

"If I were interested in the whole emotional catharsis, I would've just booked an appearance with Oprah," she commented offhandedly.

"You said the world wanted to know what it's like to be Supergirl," Kara offered in explanation, voice devoid of the fight she held in Cat's office earlier. She turned to look at her, the lights of the city reflecting off tired blue eyes, before she turned her attention back to her contemplation of the night sky, offering nothing more for the moment.

Cat took the silence to mean that despite her hopes, this conversation would not reach such a simple conclusion.

The silence was peppered with the tap tap tap of her heels as she crossed the landing to settle in across from Kara. She sat down gingerly, facing Kara as she waited for her to continue.

Cat had to strain forward to the hear the soft utterance of words as Kara began, "I wake up shouting in the middle of the night sometimes as I dream of how I watched my planet and everyone I loved crumble before my eyes."

Cat let out a small gasp as the stark admission startles her, such blatant, painful truth unexpected.

She knew then that this conversation was much deeper that she was prepared for, and that even though her wit and sarcasm were tools to deflect such emotional displays, they would somehow prove useless to her now.

Kara's eyes closed tightly. "If I close my eyes just right, I can see my mother's smile," and at this Cat saw a small, matching upturn of lips, before it slipped away completely as Kara went on, "only for it to be replaced by the look of anguish on her face as she closed the pod door, seconds before I was sent off."

Even from the side, Cat could swear she saw watery eyes to accompany the broken tone as Kara's eyes snapped open once more.

Cat suddenly felt uncomfortable–an itch beneath the surface of her skin, trying to claw its way out, a tightening in her chest; a compulsion to reach out to the younger woman. She fidgeted with her hands in her lap, such an uncharacteristic tic for her, and noticed that despite her own restlessness, Kara was completely still across from her.

Kara's eyes were still trained off into the night sky, as if searching for something. Cat didn't have the boldness to ask what.

It was a long moment before Kara rasped out, "My cousin was too young to remember the destruction of our planet." She paused, and even quieter, she admitted, "but I do."

She and her cousin talked often, and though she loved her cousin, as he did her–their devotion to each other a great strength–there was a part of her that he would never know, or never understand. When she had arrived to Earth, Kal-El was but a stranger. And yes, they were bound by blood, a bond which grew stronger over time, but it took time for their close comfortableness to develop.

Clark would ask her to tell him stories of their home world over the years, and if he closed his eyes, he could almost picture it.

Her favorite was watching the way his face would come alight as she recounted stories of his parents. How strong her Uncle Jor was as he cast her high into the sky when she was little–much higher than her own father could–as she yelped with delight, flying through the air, before he once again caught her safely in his arms. Or how the sound of Jor's strong, yet gentle voice was able soothe her to sleep as he told her wondrous stories of adventure, a comforting lullaby as she drifted off into dreams.

She told him how his strength and his wisdom came from his father. But the gentleness that seemed so innate with him–that was undeniably his mother.

She had told him sometime later that it wasn't through the crest of the House of El that she recognized him after arriving, but that it was his eyes. They're were the same as Lara's.

Aunt Lara had such a tenderness, a compassion within her soul that seemed to exude itself in her every action. Kara would recount with amazement every time how she was so beautiful, an elegance to her that Kara had longed to emulate as a child. When Kara was discouraged, or the light left her eyes in the slightest, Lara would always remind her of her courage, her bravery. "When the world falls dark and gray, with a smile, you will light the way," she had always said with a brilliant smile of her own, that made Kara believe in its truth.

She reminds Clark of it whenever he comes to her plagued by the unease of helplessness.

She told him how very loved she had felt in their presence–how loved they both were. For how every precious moment they were blessed with him, their love for their son was more than she could explain.

Kara enjoyed sharing their world with Clark–was grateful that she could offer him this one gift after he has given so much to everyone else.

They had helped one another grow more than simple words could express.

But Clark would never miss the feel of their own sun, or long for the blue glow of Krypton's two moons at night, so much closer than Earth's own moon.

He'd never know that pain–the one Kara felt so sharply in the oddest of moments, that it nearly stole the breath from her.

And he would never remember how their home was destroyed. None of the other Kryptonians would–Astra and her followers were safe away in the Phantom Zone, Kal-El was too young, and there was no one else left...

In all of their conversations, with all of the trust between them, she and Clark had only discussed that day once.

She didn't bother to wonder what it meant that she was discussing it with Cat now.

"I'm the only one burdened with the memory of that day," she said, brought back to the present, "the chaos of it all, our planet collapsing around us." Kara had to close her eyes tightly to keep the flood of emotion from spilling over, "the memory of all we had every known, everything we had loved destroyed before us."

Her eyes remain closed as she hears Cat shift in her seat across from her, and she fights becoming lost in the sea of emotion threatening to overwhelm her and drag her beneath its depths into cold darkness.

"There are days," she started, before she amended, "not as many now as when I first arrived," and she felt the pressure in her chest ease a little at the truth in that statement, "that I feel the crushing loneliness of that fate, to be the only one to remember." Kara murmured, impressed with herself though as her voice managed to only crack once.

It's the first time she admitted as such out loud.

She took a moment to compose herself, her hearing focused on the steady beating of Cat's heart, the monotonous rhythm a comfort to the discord she felt.

"Is that what you think the people were looking for, Miss Grant," Kara asked softly, eyes blinking open as she turned to face Cat for the first time, "when you asked what Krypton was like, or what's it like to be Supergirl?"

"Is that the truth you wanted to hear?"

Cat was taken aback at the hurt–the unbridled pain–in her eyes, her breath stolen from her at the sight.

Her lips parted slightly before she spoke. "Kara," she didn't know where to begin, the name falling softly from her lips, stale in the air around them as Kara turned away once more.

Through the layers of blue and red, under the cover of dark rims and pressed collared shirts, deep beneath soft skin strengthened from the foreign sun, there's a loneliness swelling within Kara. It's small, and most of the time rests in silence, but it's there.

She longs for someone to soothe it. She wished Clark could be around to offer such comfort everyday, but she knows he can't be.

She thinks–wants, if she's completely honest with herself–Cat to be that person instead.

Another long moment passed between them before Kara eventually responded.

"This is the part where you come up with a witty remark to save us from awkward silence, Miss Grant," and the way Kara said it, a dry undertone to her voice, Cat knew she was drained.

"I suppose I could remind you that if you wear yet another cardigan, you'll be in competition with the hobbit computer master for most times to bore my eyes with poor fashion in one week," she quipped, eyes downcast as she toyed with a a stray thread on her button up, "but I was saving that remark for tomorrow," Cat finished, a small smile on her face.

"It's easier to hide the suit," Kara laughed softly in response.

Kara allowed herself a moment to appreciate the easiness of their lighter tone, knowing she had to return the conversation to more complicated matters. She took in a deep, steadying breath before removing her legs from their perch over the arm of the chair to return them to solid ground in front of her as she turned to face Cat fully.

"I know your job is the media," she began, and for the first time that night, Cat was quick to reply.

"Then you know I can't ignore it," Cat said simply. "Supergirl sells," she added, reiterating their conversation from earlier.

Kara leaned forward then, resting her elbows on her knees, settling herself before she went on. "I know that too. And I know that it's going to take time for us to find a balance between who we are and the roles we need to play."

Before she continued, Kara's attention turned to the sleeve of her cardigan as she tugged it up over knuckles, her thumb toying with the edge. Her focus remained there before she continued softly, "But most of all, I know I don't want to lose what I have with you."

Her eyes briefly flickered to Cat before Kara got up from the chair, her feet carrying her toward the balcony ledge where she stood, Cat still visible in her periphery waiting for her to continue.

"I don't know how to make this work," she spoke with what Cat thought was a hint of longing.

"I want to trust you," Kara's tone took on a hopeful note, before she went on, lighter. "I've always felt like I can talk to you." At that she faced Cat again, her body more relaxed, more open.

"You don't realize how much you've helped me, just by being here," Kara said as she took a measured step closer, before she elaborated, "being you."

A beat later, a small smile painted itself on her lips before Kara teased, "even when you criticize my fashion choices,"

"It does need work," Cat hummed in agreement.

"You can ask me all that the world wants to know about me, and I'll be everything they expect," Kara said. "I'll give you the hero that they want, fill them with hope, inspire them..." her voice trailed off into the night as she contemplated her next words carefully.

"Or you can ask me what you want to know, and I'll give you the truth," she said simply, he assertion anything but simple, before she added "but my answers–that part of me, it's not for them," at with that she turned to gesture to the expanse of the city before her attention settled back on Cat.

"It's for you, and you alone," she paused a moment, steeling herself, "and I need to make sure you know that before anything else."

The night air was thick with the force of emotion settling between them. Cat had remained uncharacteristically quiet the entire time, her eyes glued to Kara's every motion as her face conceded all that she was thinking.

Kara once again reclaimed her seat across from Cat. "I need to know when I'm talking to Cat Grant, 'the most powerful, influential, good looking woman in the city," Kara teased, her best imitation to adopt Cat's demeanor and voice.

"And when I'm talking to the woman I want to trust–who I want to know me," Kara finished.

"–I do not sound like that," and of course Cat would choose to break her prevailing quietness to respond to such a quip.

A moment passed, Cat contemplative, before she began to question, "What happens when you blow up a freighter and damage half of the city again–

"That was one time!" It was Kara's turn to startle incredulously, although she did so with much more gusto than the dryness Cat had replied with seconds ago.

"And I have to plaster your mistakes over the front page?" Cat concluded.

Their slight banter had given Kara the closest feeling to normality she had felt all evening, her lips tugging upward the slightest in response.

But Cat had raised an interesting, inevitable point. Eventually Supergirl would find her way to the front page of the news, more likely sooner than later. A testament of her heroism wouldn't be difficult, but a destruction of her character would be much harder to manage.

Kara couldn't expect Cat to be biased in her interpretation of events to shade them in her favor, and Cat couldn't expect Kara not to hurt when she didn't.

Kara considered this before she continued.

"You'll do what you have to, as will I. We both have roles to play," Kara responded, her brown unfurrowing after their careful calculation.

With a subtle nod from Cat, it seemed that they had finally arrived at a conclusion they both agreed would make sense.

"Supergirl is more than just a person. This suit, this symbol," Kara gestured to her chest, and though her casual clothes for the day concealed the blue and red wonder underneath, Cat understood her intent.

"It's an idea, a beacon of hope," Kara continued, her eyes expressive as she mimicking her cousin's tried and true words.

She remembered the last time she had heard those words from their true author, as Jor had kissed his son goodbye for the last time.

"And that idea is indestructible," Kara said, leaning forward in her chair towards Cat, "you taught me that."

She was sure to catch Cat's gaze fully before she went on, "But what I feel isn't. I need to know if I can trust you with that."

The silence again fell between them as the depth of their conversation, the feelings and emotions it evoked, settled around them. They were at a tipping point, and though Kara was unsure to which direction they were headed, she felt a sense of calm settle over her, her piece spoken.

She just needed to wait to see how it would be received.

"Blue, not gold" Cat's voice startled Kara from her musings.

"Excuse me?" Kara asked, an arch of an eyebrow lifted in question.

"Blue is my favorite color." Cat clarified, as she straightened out her shirt, a huff of faked annoyance at the notion of repeating herself. "I tell everyone it's gold because gold is a color of money and power and it's predictable, but it's blue," she offered.

"It always has been since the time I was small," she remarked, her face shifting the slightest in memory. "My first room was painted a shade of blue. I had a love affair with the sky as a child." She considered the memory fondly for a moment, before she added, "And I hated that ugly brown color it was before that, it was like vomit on the walls."

And Kara knew exactly what it was–what Cat had offered, and in turn accepted.

Kara let out a small laugh, her features colored by the relief that drifted through her.

"When it comes time for Supergirl to inevitably give an interview or talk with the press," Cat's tone professional once more, the hint of nostalgia vanished, "I suppose I'll have my assistant proof read the edits before they're sent to print."

Kara's smile widened at the sight of the small grin on the face of the woman across from her. A moment passed between them, a silent acknowledgment of the understanding of trust between them.

"We start slow," Cat added, and with a tone of easy relief she concluded, "the rest will come to us."

They stayed out on the balcony deep into the night talking, before either one of them registered the lateness of the hour.  


* * *

_They slowly start to navigate the tentative trust they've started to build._  


* * *

"Kiera!"

Her super hearing picked up a distress call in the distance, distracting her from whatever was being said. The irate tone of her boss however gave her enough sense to try and salvage the situation with an apology. "I'm sorry Miss Grant, I–" Kara began, jolted at being singled out, before she questioned, "What did you say?"

"I asked if you having a seizure, Kiera, or do you enjoy looking like a fool, staring off into space," Cat asked plainly, the arch of her eyebrow complementing her sarcastic wit.

She maintained it well, considering she knew the reason why Kara had tuned out her most recent pontification to the the editors spread out through the conference room. "I apologize Miss Grant, I'm not feeling well," Kara shrugged, eyes having a silent conversation with the deep brown across the table, "I feel a headache coming on."

Yesterday it was that she had forgotten to pick up Cat's dry cleaning.

Cat knew she didn't have anything to be laundered.

Three days before, Cat had ordered Kara to fetch her a coffee when an incoming call from her sister alerted her to the need of her presence elsewhere.

"Again with the the apologizing Keira," Cat drawled, her tone equally as bored as her face conveyed her to be.

Kara stood up to leave, nearly tripping on the rung of her chair in haste and mumbling an apology to the editor whose back she had just used as a support.

"I'm just going to run to the pharmacy across the street real quick," she said distractedly, hand reaching up to adjust her glasses from habit. "If you'll excuse me."

"See if you can find where you've left you competence on the way," Kara heard as she reached the threshold of the room.

"And for god-sake Kiera," at this, Kara turned back around, her eyes meeting Cat's once more. "Make sure you take care of your self. I expect you back ready to actually be useful," the dismissive tone could be construed as harsh and condescending to those in the room, hardly a deviation from Cat's typical annoyance.

But Kara could hear the unspoken demand in the words.

Be safe.

"Of course, Miss Grant."

And somehow, whenever she was called away to duty, Cat found a way to convey her worry for her safety, her desire for her safe return.

So much could pass between them unspoken.

A gentle look, _it's ok, go_ ; a touch, _stay safe_ ; a sarcastic snipe that veils words of a double meaning; _do what you best, but come back in one piece._  


* * *

_Trust isn't the only thing that's been building between them._  


* * *

They were seated on the couch in Cat's office in discussion about the outline for the week.

She was so focused, tasked with her interpretation of the design, that she hadn't realized the subtle slip of her glasses further down her nose.

Her forehead was crinkled, eyes appraising the article. "I think that the story on the gas leak should–" Kara offered, only to be interrupted by the lightest of touches as Cat slid the glasses back up to frame her face properly.

The warm hand traveled from the rim of her glasses to stop and tuck a stray wisp of hair behind her ear, before moving to cup her cheek and turn her attention from the arduous task that lay spray before them on the coffee table to the face its source.

Kara was met with a gentle stare, as Cat appraised her handiwork, Cat's features much more open and relaxed than Kara had remembered seeing in a while, at least while she was in the strict confines of media mogul extraordinaire at the office.

A part of her wished Cat would have taken the glasses off, if only to gaze into the brown eyes she has come to consider her haven–her refuge, if she were honest with herself–without the hindrance of the glass that she hid behind.

A sight of such beauty deserved to be viewed without bias, in all of its truth, with her own two eyes.

Cat's hand lingered on her cheek a moment longer, an unspoken moment of tender calm between them, before Kara shyly returned the smile and continued from where she left off.

From somewhere Kara had thought there was an exclamation of "oh my god."

_She can't convince herself that it hadn't come from he depths of her own mind, arisen unbidden from within her own thoughts._

She would later learn it was Lucy.

But the only thing she could focus on in the present was the pounding of her heart in her ears, worried the thud thud thud threatening to leap from her chest would be heard by the heart of its cause, even without super hearing.  


* * *

_They've come to rely on one another–to ground each other, steady one another._  


* * *

"Kiera, I'm going to need you to–"

"Where are you Miss Grant?" Kara interrupted Cat, her voice coming through the phone rushed and colored with a hint of worry.

"You would do well to have that be the last time you interrupt me," Cat continued dryly, the car coming to a stop as she arrived at her destination "especially when I'm in the middle of–"

"Where are you?" This time, Cat couldn't ignore the desperation in her tone, clear even in the fading clarity of a poor signal.

"Outside of one of Lord Industries' warehouses," Cat begins, taking in her surroundings as she stepped from the car to note the harrowed looking structures, three of them shadows against the dark of the early evening sky.

"The source demanded we meet here," her feet kicked up dirt from the unpaved road as she made her way toward the building at the center of the cluster, "the details they've promised are just too delicious to pass up."

Her face contorts in an unspoken question as she shifts the phone from ear to the other, not missing a beat, "And I haven't forgotten that you just interrupted me again–"

Before she could finish her thought, she was pushed backward, a flash of red and blue flooding her sight. A hand on the small of her back was the only shield against the hard press of the wall she was suddenly pushed against, yards away from the center warehouse.

She didn't have a chance to register her shock before the sounds of exploding wood reached her ears, a fiery blaze assaulting her eyes, before Kara pushed them further into the wall, her hands finding their way to Cat's hips to steady her, body pressed against her, ready to shield her from any threat.

Cat was jolted by the explosion, her eyes searching over Kara's shoulder to assess the carnage as Kara turned her head to do the same.

Her hands remained settled gently upon Cat's waist, as she took a small step backward, no longer pressed flush against one another. Kara's head turned back around after a moment, and Cat noticed she wasn't the only one who was breathing heavily.

Cat wasn't sure what shocked her more–the explosion or the soft touch of Kara's forehead as she leaned it against her own, her body sagging with the weight of relief, her eyelids following suit.

Kara had pushed it. Once she had discerned that Cat was at the warehouse, she knew it to be a trap, and broke speed to reach her. She didn't have enough time to consider then what would happen if she wasn't fast enough, but now with Cat in the circle of her arms–safe, she told her widely beating heart, she's safe–the thought caused her pause. She was afraid to open her eyes lest the other woman see it.

"Are you alright?" Kara murmured, barely above a whisper as her eyes remained shut.

Cat struggled to find words, her eyes glued shut as she contemplated what had just come about over the past few minutes. Instead she settled for a nod, and if Kara hadn't been so thrown by the situation, she would have noted that perhaps a near death experience was the only thing capable of rendering Cat Grant speechless. Instead she only felt the up and down of her nod where their foreheads still rested against one another.

Kara's eyes flutter open after a few moments, her breathing regulated but her heart still erratic.

Perhaps it was because she was so overwhelmed with relief at Cat's safety, or perhaps it was an unconscious testament to the level of caring she held for the other woman, that she allowed herself to act without thought.

The height difference between them was accentuated by Cat's choice of flats for the day, and the extra height Kara's boots afforded.

It made it that much easier for Kara to lean up the barest bit to place a soft kiss to Cat's temple. "Stay here," she murmured into Cat's ear, as Cat's eyes snapped open at another soft brush of lips against the shell of her ear, before the sudden coolness of the night air surrounded her, Kara gone as fast as she had come.  


* * *

_Whatever is growing between them, it's powerful and it's deep._  


* * *

"You cannot go after Maxwell Lord," Kara started, entering the office, her eyes burning with resolution and something Cat can't quite place.

Cat sighed, removing her glass as she rose up from her chair.

"Have you misplaced your mind Kiera?" she drawled, hands placed on the desk in front of her. "I'm going to pretend that I didn't hear you think it's perfectly acceptable for you to dictate what I can and cannot do."

"Miss Grant, you can't," Kara warned.

"Again Kiera," Cat retorted, annoyance coloring her tone. "I see your lips flapping but nothing intelligible seems capable of coming out."

Kara leveled her with a pointed look, shifting her hands to sit on her hips, before Cat responded coolly, "He tried to blow me up," as if it was a perfectly logical justification. "The last person who tried to blow me up–"

"Someone's tried to blow you up before this!?" Kara exclaimed in abject horror, shock evident in her eyes, in the uprise of her brows.

Cat rolled her eyes as she reached down to retrieve her bag from the lowest drawer of the filing cabinet, "Well I wouldn't be doing my job right if they hadn't," she remarked distractedly.

"Miss Grant!" Kara exclaimed, surprise still coloring her tone, with a tone of desperation to contend with.

Shouldering her purse, Cat moved from behind the desk. "If you'll excuse me, I have a reckoning with Maxwell to attend."

But she was met with the solid form of the other woman obstructing her path, forcing her to an abrupt stop.

Cat's features twisted in annoyance as she quipped, "Even though your outfit of the day makes you look like an orange construction cone," as she appraised Kara up and down, "standing in my way like one isn't going to stop me."

"Miss Grant–" Kara shot out a hand to stop Cat as she attempted to step around her.

Cat's gaze landed on strong hand gripping her bicep, before her eyes drifted up to Kara's. "Remove your arm Kiera," she snapped coldly, "or do you think it wise to try and stop me?"

As she tried to remove herself from Kara's grip, she felt her back connect with the solid wall behind her, Kara having moved them the few feet across the room to trap Cat between herself and the wall, escape much more difficult than a moment before.

Her bag was gone from her shoulder, Kara having removed it to her desk in as she moved.

Both of Kara's hands found purchase on her upper arms, and if those unyielding hands weren't holding her in place, her gaze would have pinned her there just as well. Their gaze locked for a moment–Cat's eyes displaying her shock at the move and Kara's eyes flashing a warning–before Cat lifted her gaze over Kara's shoulder to make sure that the little stunt had gone unnoticed.

Kara at least had the sense before their encounter to make sure the curtains were drawn.

Cat's gaze shot back to Kara, Kara's features finally registering the shock at what she had just thoughtlessly–instinctually–done. "Twice in two days Kara," Cat smirked, wanting to see how much she could push Kara's buttons, a snobbish note to her tone, "I'm beginning to think you like having me shoved up against–"

"Cat!" Kara raised her voice, warning her to tread carefully, her hands unconsciously tightening their hold as if she wanted to physically shake some sense into her. The use of Cat's first name caught her attention, the rarity with which it used by Kara observed only a handful of times.

"This isn't the time for jokes," she scolded, just as hotly.

Cat pushed back the slightest against the solid hold, unwilling to concede, "And here I thought it was," she countered, the fire in her eyes gaining ground, "you apparently find my freedom to do my job to be nothing more than a joke."

"You can't just go looking for trouble," Kara exclaimed.

Cat's glare hardened before she said, superiorly, "And you can't stop me."

At that, Kara's eyes flashed at the challenge, before her voice lowered dangerously, "Yes I can."

Perhaps Cat should have chosen her words more carefully. She was very aware that the woman holding her in place could stop her, but she was more curious as to if she would. But the look in her eyes told Cat that the answer would no doubt be the same to either question.

Cat relaxed what little push she exerted against the other woman, head tilted back the slightest against the wall. "I like this side of you Kara," Cat began emboldened, her eyes lowering to rake over the woman before her, "strong...assertive," her hands reached up to settle over the sturdy grip holding her in place, "finally taking, instead of asking."

At the touch, Kara instantly let go and took a step back. "Miss Grant," she warned again, although this time her tone had lost some of the certainty and assertiveness it had moments before.

They were treading through much more dangerous territory than Kara's determination to protect Cat.

Cat rolled her eyes before she countered, "Enough of this, I'm going." She tried sidestepping Kara again, only to be met with matching movements from her counterpart, her path blocked yet again.

"I'm tiring of this little game," she drawled.

"Don't push me," Kara said, half plea and half command, looking as if she was fighting a tumultuous battle on the inside.

Cat halted her pursuit of forward movement toward the door to place her hands on her hips, posture defensive before she asked, "Why won't you let me go after Maxwell?"

"Maxwell Lord is dangerous," Kara responded.

"Oh, don't be so naive Kara," Cat patronized, tilting her head. "I'm a reporter," she continued, "if there wasn't a little danger, everyone would do it."

Kara turned to face the door, away from the onslaught of condescension as Cat spoke, conscious of her anger–of something more–bubbling up from within. Scared that it would overwhelm her, she heard Cat continue, "It's my job to give the people of this city a good story no matter–"

"And it's my job to keep you safe!" When Kara turned back around, her glasses were removed, nothing but naked expression left on her face.

At her raised tone, Kara half expected Cat to concede, but she held her ground, her own voice uncharacteristically raised, her own emotions getting the better of her.

"Then tell me why Kara!"

Kara startled at the unrestricted display of emotion from the woman in front of her. She knew then that Cat wasn't simply looking for the reason why she wouldn't let her go after Maxwell. She was looking for a deeper admission–a voice to whatever was between them–and they both knew it.

This moment had the power to define them.

Kara took in the blazing eyes, the flush of anger coloring Cat's cheeks. The silence stretched between them endlessly, before Kara spoke, voice a whispered defeat.

"You already know why." Their gazes held a moment longer before Kara turned away once more, headed toward the door.

"Not good enough," Cat said boldly, halting Kara in her movements.

_It was the first time either of them had challenged the unspoken acknowledgment of what was between them._

But Kara wasn't ready to give Cat that power over her. Not yet, not when she already given her so much power to begin with.

If she gave it up now, she wasn't sure she'd ever recover herself.

Kara's form seemed to curl in on itself, before she continued, defeated. "Can't you just trust me?" Kara begged softly, still faced away. "Please," she said in a broken whisper.

Kara straightened, standing tall once more, as she took a minute to conceal everything in her posture, in her eyes, that hinted at how strongly her emotions resonated within her.

Head tilted high in confidence, her voice was strong as she said, "He's up to something, and whatever it is, it's not good." She paused then, hoping her words would sink in.

"I have to stop him," she added, before her glasses found her face once more and she finally turned back around to face the other woman.

She knew what she said next would hurt, but she hoped Cat would understand what her words concealed within them. "You can't get in the way," she said, resolutely.

She shut her eyes briefly so she wouldn't have to see the pain brought forth in the brown orbs across from her.

Kara's posture shifted again, her shoulders more rounded, and instantly any trace of the famed hero was gone, replaced by the meek assistance that belonged in this office. Kara reached up to adjust her glasses before she trailed off, "If that will be all Miss Grant–"

"You're dismissed," Cat snapped coldly as she returned to her place behind her desk.

Kara made into the door, before she paused, her heart clenching painfully at the discord between them.

"I'll do what it takes to keep you safe," she admitted softly over her shoulder. She heard the other woman shift and knew that she had heard her. "Even if you hate me for it," she concluded before walking away.  


* * *

_It could threaten to rip them apart–_  


* * *

Later that night, a shift in the air drew Cat's eyes away from the computer screen on her desk and to the balcony entrance off to her right, her gaze settling on the red and blue and the crown of blonde, windblown in the slightest from recent flight.

Kara was once more settled against the doorway, a sense of calm over her form, except for the same sense of disquiet plaguing her eyes that Cat had seen the last time she had seen her in the same position.

She still remembers her form outlined in the moonlight.

She revisits that image more than she dared admit.

Cat appraised her up and down, and sat back in her chair, unwilling to be the first to concede to a detente after the earlier argument.

Kara was silent for a moment longer, simply observing the woman before her, whose features retained the hardness from earlier in the evening despite how the soft glow of the lamp fell over her face.

"You mean too much to me," Kara stated softly. No double meaning to her words, no veil of concealment to her words' true intent, just plain unaltered truth laid out into the silence of the room.

_You already know why._

_You can't get in the way._

It's the answer Cat had been looking for, and they both knew it.

And even if Cat didn't, Kara's eyes said it plainly. Kara's emotions had always shown the clearest in her eyes, unable to conceal the elation of joy, the shock of surprise, or the devastation of hurt from which she felt so deeply.

Her eyes had always said what she couldn't–or wouldn't–say.

Kara stared at her with such a tenderness, the raw emotion Cat sees there enough to soften her face and make her chest tighten, something within the very essence of her touched.

Kara remained quiet, but after the subtle shift she saw in Cat, she took a step backward on to the balcony. Her gaze only breaks from Cat's just before she launched toward the awaiting night.

And though she may have left, the pangs of feeling the truth in her admission had stirred in Cat still resonated.

* * *

_–Or it could bind them more strongly together._  


* * *

Kara's desk is normally pristine, uncomplicated by messy stacks of papers or cluttered from the arduous tasks awaiting her. The organization offered a semblance of calm in a setting normally governed by chaos.

When Kara approached her desk the following morning, a white envelope laid over her keyboard greeted her. Kara flipped over the envelope in her hands, her face reflecting her puzzlement. Her interest was further piqued after she detected a hint of honey and rose petals that she knew to adorn Cat's perfume.

Four words awaited her on a simple white note card, spelled out in an elegant writing that matched their writer, an acceptance to the olive branch she had chanced the previous evening.

_I do trust you._

A light smile pulled Kara's lips upwards, her eyes immediately seeking out the author. Through the glass windows of the office, Kara's eyes found their query, seated at the desk, glasses perched delicately on her face.

As if sensing the gaze, Cat looked up and their eyes met, the slightest upturn of a smile the only acknowledgment of the concession before her gaze returned to the work in front of her.

The smile was still wide over Kara's face when a shrill call of "Kiera!" called her into the office to begin the business day as usual.  


* * *

Kara isn't quite sure what is developing between them.

_Later, Lucy remarks that it's unresolved sexual tension, a snipe that has Kara sputtering for air, not so much because she is shocked that it's given voice, but because of how close to the truth she unconsciously feels it to be._

The only thing she is sure of is that they both feel it–this undeniable pull toward one another, their need of and for one another. Unnamed it rests between them as they orbit one another, unable to escape the other's gravity.

They don't speak about it, even though their conversations of late are richly burdened with emotion. Neither one of them is ready to give it a name or explore it, lest it compromise the delicate growth they've worked so hard to build between them.

But there is something. Beneath every conversation, every touch, it lingers beneath the surface, waiting for the chance to arise unbidden.

She doesn't have to wait long to find out what it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've officially fallen in the trash bin and I can't get out. Send help. Find me on tumblr at doorengray
> 
> Un-beta'ed. All mistakes are my own.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At long last, the end.
> 
> I originally intended this to be a one-shot. But from the kindness and supportiveness of this fandom, I was inspired to continue it. 
> 
> I am still in awe of just how wonderfully supportive this fandom is, you all are truly wonderful!
> 
> Bonus points to anyone who recognizes the Easter Egg tossed in here to go with the fic’s title. 
> 
> Enjoy!

She felt lost.

Not lost as in the sense of not knowing where she was, but a much stronger dissonance resonated through her. She felt as if she had been dropped into the middle of the ocean, adrift without a life raft. Nothing but the vast, shapeless form of the waves spanning in all directions. And she didn’t know how long she had been left there, as if time ceased to have meaning, or where ‘there’ was, or what direction to start swimming to find home once more.

Or if she even had the strength left to swim. 

She felt the cold, unfeeling embrace of the dark waters threatening to pull her under. And she couldn’t fathom whether it would be easier just to concede or whether if she kept floating a little while until her strength returned once more, everything would be alright...

It had been nearly a week since she had seen the sun—a week of terrible grey skies and a gloomy feeling of cold that crept along her extremities, up her spine and threatened to penetrate her to the core. She felt drained, her powers not yet depleted but the absence of the steadying strength of the sun’s touch left her in discord.

Though if she were honest with herself, she wasn’t sure that this feeling was entirely caused by the lack of sun. 

Kara stood pressed against the half wall of the balcony on the exterior of Cat’s office as she looked out over the gray expanse of the early evening sky. Her eyes slipped closed in exhaustion as she tilted her face in the direction in which she could feel the descending sun to be, despite not being able to see it.

The cacophony of the her thoughts were interrupted by a shift in the air behind her. There it was—the steady monotonous beating of heart that, to Kara, had become unmistakable. It was a gentle lullaby, drawing her focus from the chaos of the helpless world, so full of uncertainties, back to the comfort of definitive and finite. 

She listened further, Cat's heartbeat the only she could hear, letting her know that they were alone and would remain so.

"I'm sorry, Miss Grant," Kara began wearily, her posture and tone exuding the exhaustion she felt. Her eyes still closed, she could feel the subtle shift to the evening breeze as Cat strode closer, a hint of her perfume prying at the senses. 

"I just needed a minute," she continued, a weak attempt at a smile upturning her lips. 

Things had cooled between them in the slightest. Or perhaps cooled wasn’t the proper term. The simmering suggestion of something deeper between them still lingered, but they had yet to give it voice or acknowledge it any further. There had been no more hints of something more between them, no more nods to the deeper emotions that lie in wait. 

Cat’s movements brought her to a pause next to Kara as she leaned her elbow on the wall, her body angled to face Kara. Taking in the stooped shoulders and the lack of energy that had always seemed so enriched in Kara’s form, she observed, "You're exhausted." 

—An understatement, to say the least. 

The latest villainous tyrant that had caught the attention of the DEO this week after terrorizing the denizens of the city was a being nocturnal in nature. His torment was relentless, and Kara had spent almost every night for the past week defusing the disorder he elicited throughout the city, barely a moment’s rest. His anger gave way at morning’s light, only for Kara to face the challenges of the day at CatCo.

It had been a equally busy week at CatCo, prepping for a new division to launch, along the quarterly markings report with each branch of the company. Kara had been by Cat’s side consistently without fail.

The combination, however, left Kara feeling near sleepless and drained, so busy without much of a moment’s peace. 

She turned to face Cat, lowering her eyes for a moment, before she offered her a thin smile. "It's nothing Miss Grant, I–"

"You look worse than my last divorce,” Cat interrupted, and although it was touched with her normal cynical whit, Kara knew her well enough now to recognize the hint of caring and worry that was hidden beneath. 

"You fell asleep at your desk this morning." Cat remarked with a raised brow. "You subjected me to fetching that watery mud they call coffee from the kitchen," she finished dryly, a look of distaste crossing her face. 

Kara had put her head down just for a moment, letting her lids slip shut for a second’s reprieve. When Winn’s hand shook her shoulder to rouse her, she could’ve sworn that she hadn’t been out for longer than a few tics of the clock. Certainly not long enough for Cat to take notice. 

"Miss Grant, I'm so sorry," Kara drew out, her brow lifted abjectly. 

"Kara," a light touch to her arm caused her pause. Kara’s gaze lowered to the hand, as she found herself still surprised at how gentle Cat could be. Her words and tone were often harsh, and could often conceal her softer side, but there was always something to her touch that couldn’t be masked.

"I've been watching the nightly news," Cat began before she dropped her arm, her feet carrying her across landing to the far side of the balcony where it overlooked the eastern side of the city, Kara’s eyes tracking her as she moved. "Someone's been busy," she spoke to the open evening air, surveying the traffic below before facing Kara once more as she leaned her weight casually on the half wall behind her.

"It's been a long few nights," Kara shrugged. 

Cat’s eyes showed a hint of amusement, even as she casually replied, "I said the same thing after my three night escapade with John Stamos."

They stood together in comfortable silence for a moment, before Cat’s eyes crinkled in consideration. "Something is off about you," she posed in question to the puzzle Kara presented, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she settled further against the wall. "Apart from looking worse than a weekend bachelorette party in Vegas," she concluded dryly.

Kara reached a hand up to brush a blonde lock blown astray by the warm breeze back behind her ear, before she offered the other woman a small smile. "I'm alright, Miss Grant, really."

"Your eyes do that absurdly little crinkly thing when you're avoiding the truth, Kara."

"Miss Grant—," A pointed look caused her to take pause in her denial, knowing it to be futile now. 

Kara bowed her head slightly in reproach, before silence found them once more. She turned from Cat toward the city’s skyline, resting both her elbows on the wall’s ledge as she clasped her hands together in thought. 

"It's the sun," she murmured simply, slowly, and Cat could hear the sense of longing behind the words.

Such an exquisite pain was the pain of longing. An ache that is never fully quelled, a discord that follows the very soul. It welled from within and settled there, its burden felt with even the simplest of moments in breathing.

An uncomfortable feeling tickled her gut before Cat said, "Don't tell me you become a hermit when the sun fails to shine," taking note of how Kara seemed curled in on herself once more. "There's Lexapro for that."

Kara sighed, her eyes fluttering closed for a second before opening once more. "No Miss Grant," Kara struggled a moment, as a hand came up to fiddle her glasses into place. 

"It's not that," Kara trailed off. A sideways glance to Cat in periphery saw her expectant gaze, waiting fore her to elaborate. 

Except, Kara didn’t know if she could elaborate—to give accurate words to the feelings of loss and deeper turmoil she felt within, or the exhaustion that seemed now to reverberate through her.  
In the distance, the engines of a plane overhead sung through the settling silence between them as Kara considered her answer. 

"My powers come from the sun," she started slowly, her eyes trained on the sky to the west where she knew it was hiding beyond the curtain of gray. "It gives me strength. When it's gone, I feel, I don't know how to explain it," she paused, a far away look in her eyes. 

"Lost." she said, the hint of a question in her tone outweighed by a pervasive sadness. 

And if she considered it, the symmetry was something to behold. She had felt as if she were teetering on the edge of being trapped beneath the ocean’s waves, longing for air. The same ever shapeless form of the ocean was mirrored in the gray expanse of the sky. And once again she felt trapped beneath it, her salvation across the other side. 

She knew, try as she might, that simple words could not convey such thoughts.

Thus instead of trying, she allowed a hopeful note to color her tone. "Don't worry, Miss Grant," she said as she turned her attention back to Cat, "even when it's gone, I still have you here to guide me," and the earnestness with which she said it and the smile that had come to take up residence on her face proved completely disarming to Cat.

Cat was too thrown to notice that Kara had left her position, slowly advancing toward her, until her voice registered much closer than Cat had remembered. 

"Would you trust me?" Kara asked quietly, timidly hopeful as she took another step closer to Cat. 

Cat rolled her eyes, before she questioned, annoyance coloring her tone, "Is your memory really as short as that cardigan wearing hobbit?" before she conceded, only a hint softer, "We've been over this already."

_I do trust you_

"I didn't ask you that," Kara challenged lightly, although her face had been overtaken by a wider smile at the memory. She glanced down a moment, a subtle defense from the open exposure of the question afforded. "I asked if you would," she clarified softly.

Closer now, Cat could see that for the first time since their conversation began, a spark of light had returned to the younger girl’s eyes, her posture a little less stiffened. 

Cat sighed as she uncrossed her ankles as stood up from her relaxed pose. "If I would trust you to what, Kara," she began, her eyes narrowed, "make sure my coffee comes with an extra shot of expresso on Monday mornings or to see to it that any negotiations with the finance department don't happen until after noon, you know how cranky they make me, or–"

"How would you like to come with me and watch the sunset?" Kara asked hopeful, interrupting Cat’s musings. 

At this, Cat was baffled, her brow upturned in silent question. Her mind tried to reconcile the possible implications, but she found herself short of an answer.

"Kara, you may have superpowers, but your powers of observation are clearly subpar, judging by your outfit choices on a daily basis," she said, a hand gesturing to Kara’s choice of clothing for the day. 

"But it is cloudy out," she asserted confidently, "that hasn't changed in the past few minutes."

Kara lowered her eyes for a moment in nervousness, a small chuckle escaping her lips, and when her attention refocused on Cat, Cat noted her smile to be shy, more reserved—as if it was taking her considerable will to ask what she so clearly wanted. 

"I was asking if you'd trust me, not to let you fall," Kara murmured with such genuineness, her eyes alight with hope. 

Cat’s mind struggled to wrap around the words, discern their meaning as a tendril of thought sparked her mind, "Not to let me–"

The understanding came slowly creeping in as Kara continued. "It's been almost a week since I've seen the sun," she said, turning away from Cat in part to consider the position of the sun behind the clouds, and partly to conceal the slight blush that had had begun to slip its way over her features. 

"So, Miss Grant," she continued more confidently, taking a couple steps away before she turned back around excitedly. 

"How would you like to come with me to seek it out?"

The question settled in the air as silence grew in its wake, and Cat’s mind was unable to supply a sarcastic remark, a witty defense. She was unsure how long she remained silent, only that it was long enough to see Kara’s grin falter in the slightest before she acquiesced simply, "Ok."

Kara beamed at her then, their gazes locked softly for a moment as Cat offered her a small smile in return, before consideration colored Kara’s features and she was snapped from the moment. 

"I can't exactly fly around in, well, this," Kara said, a hand gesturing to the crisp white button-up and brown pants that she had worn to the office that morning. "I'll be right back," she said, her feet carrying her to the entrance to the interior of the building before Cat’s voice stopped her.

"Wait," Cat said, some of the confidence that seemed fleeting moments ago returning to her now. "I've seen you and I've see her," she mused as Kara turned to face her, her hands undoing the top button with practiced ease. 

“But I've never seen you become her."

At this, Kara’s hands froze over the second button, her eyes widening as she considered the unvoiced question.

"Miss Grant—"

"Please," and in all the time that she had known her, Kara had never known such a plea to fall from Cat’s delicate lips. 

Suddenly Kara felt too open, too exposed, poised to let Cat literally peel back her layers, but it was oh, so much more that that. The vulnerability, the level of trust for what was about to unfold—this was a piece of herself that she was about to relinquish. And she was terrified.

Kara felt unable to move, pinned in place by the intense look from the other woman as she stalked toward her.

Even with all of her strength, Kara still felt like the prey.

"You're trembling," Cat murmured, coming to stop directly before her, the slight height difference between them causing her to peer just a tad upward to meet Kara’s scared gaze. Kara’s hands relinquished hold of her shirt buttons as they fell to her side to conceal the slight tremor that plagued them.

A smirk eased its way onto Cat’s lips as her hand came up over Kara’s shoulder, Cat leaning in to the limited space between them bringing her level with Kara’s ear as she searched out the clip holding Kara’s hair up. 

Finding her target, she pulled the clip free, liberating the blond locks to cascade gently down Kara’s shoulders. She gave the curls a light shake, fingertips gloriously scratching Kara’s scalp for too short of a moment, and as she retreated, she teased softly, 

"Do I make you uncomfortable, Kara?"

And Rao, if Cat continued to say her name like that...

Kara’s eyes fluttered shut and she swallowed thickly, her silence answer enough. 

Kara stood rigidly still as Cat reached her hands to her shirt, her fingers deftly working the second button free as a hint of blue began to peek out from beneath the white. 

Those hands! They could either mold her or rip her to shreds, and at this point, Kara’s not sure which would come to pass. 

And she thought to herself, this could be heaven or this could be hell. 

"If you weren't actually this shy, I'd be tempted to say that coyness suits you Kara," Cat said as Kara tried to calm the erratic beating from within her chest and control her breathing. 

Cat finished the last button, Kara’s shirt falling open fully to reveal the House of El crest, rising and falling with the pull of air into Kara’s chest, the blue of the suit stark against the pure white of Kara’s shirt that hung still from her shoulders.

Cat took a subtle step forward, nearly closing the space between them before she implored Kara softly, her words a whispered caress, “Look at me.” 

And Kara didn’t know where she found the strength to lift the lids that had been screwed so tightly shut, her only defense, but her eyes blinked open and she was met with a look of wonder in Cat’s eyes, her face but inches from her own. 

If Kara’s focus hadn’t been completely devoted to memorizing the look in Cat’s eyes then, she would’ve considered that Cat was close enough, if she just leaned in so—

Cat’s hand came to rest on her glasses, a finger toying with the frames, a whisper against Kara’s skin, before she gently slid them from her face, Kara’s transformation near complete. 

Cat took the slightest of steps backward, arms falling to her side, her eyes still locked on Kara’s and a small upturn to her lips as she breathed, “There you are.” 

"Miss Grant," Kara said, not trusting her voice to anything but a whisper, lest it tremble, as she held the heated gaze between them a moment longer. And as the silence stretched between them, it rapidly filled with all of the unspoken emotions—the unspoken moments—between them, the pull they felt toward one another almost tangible. 

But then Kara’s eyes lowered to take in her state of undress—as Cat could have sworn they had taken pause on their descent to consider her lips for the briefest of moments—and she cleared her throat, swallowing the lump that had formed there over the past few minutes. 

"Stand back," Kara said.

And in a swift tornado of movement, Kara’s transformation was complete.

She was met with a, dare she say impressed, look in Cat’s eyes as her brow raised in an unspoken question. 

"My cousin taught me that one," Kara said sheepishly, and the simmering tension between them just moments before seemed to dissipate in the slightest. 

Kara took a steadying breath before she extended a hand to Cat in invitation. "Come here," she said when Cat remained rooted to the spot, awe still coloring her features. 

At her hesitance, Kara remarked teasingly, emboldened, "Who's the nervous one now," a light chuckle falling from her lips as Cat seemed to snap out of her trance. Finally, Kara thought to her herself, she seemed to have the upper hand—

Cat took a step forward before a wicked smirk twisted her lips, replacing any trace of heesitation. "All of a sudden with the suit on, you grow bolder?" she questioned, her eyes raking over the newly revealed form. "If I had know that, I would've tried to get your clothes off much sooner."

—until it was snatched right back from under her. Along with air from her lungs.

Kara sputtered on air briefly before regaining her breath, stolen as it was from the bold flirtation from the other woman. 

Kara’s cheeks took on a pink hue, a blush creeping over her features as Cat’s feet carried her back in front of her once more. When she trusted herself enough to speak, she did so quietly. "I'm still very much me."

"Clearly," Cat said, amusement on full display. "I don’t think I’ve ever seen Supergirl blush."

"No Miss Grant," Kara murmured as they stood toe to toe. "I think the superpower to achieve that is uniquely reserved for you," she finished with a flash of a grin.

Kara reached to Cat’s hand, curling her fingers around Cat’s smaller ones before she guided Cat to stand on her boot-covered toes. Cat’s gaze shot down to her feet as she balanced precariously, before the feel of a hip beneath her digits drew her gaze to where her hand now rested on the smooth red fabric of Kara’s skirt. 

"It's ok, you won't hurt me," Kara laughed lightly.

Kara’s other hand smoothed over Cat’s shoulder, imploring her to relax her tense balance. Cat’s eyes flickered to her Kara’s own as her hand trailed over the slope of her shoulder, down the curve of her arm before both of her hands came to rest on Cat’s own hips, pulling her closer in the slightest. 

"Is this alright?" Kara asked. 

Cat’s thumb swiped across the gold band of the suit, just above where her hand splayed over the red skirt, before she remarked, flippantly, "Your suit doesn't at least have belt loops to hold on to?" 

"Not very practical,” she finished, eyes slanted in light scrutiny.

Another laugh bubbled up from Kara’s chest, an easy smile painted over her features. "I didn't exactly make the suit with the mind of being passenger friendly," she remarked, adding, "It's not every day that I take someone flying." 

She seemed to consider the statement for a moment, her eyes flicking to where Cat’s hands sat poised for a moment, before her glance found Cat’s face once more. "Usually it's more of a carrying sort of thing rather than a—“ she trailed off, a hand gesturing between them before it found its place back on Cat’s hip again. 

"Oh Kara, you would've done a lot better to impress me by saying I'm the only you've taken flying," Cat said teasingly, before her eyes shaded up in consideration. "Although I suppose with saving people, such an assertion would be absurd."

A gentle squeeze of the hip brought Cat’s gaze to Kara’s steely blues, as Kara lowered her eyes briefly in bashfulness, a slow quirk up of her lips, and Cat was right: coyness suited her features beautifully well. 

She met her gaze once more, voice quiet.

“How about if I tell you that you're the only one I've ever asked."

And Kara looked so soft then. Not soft as if the harshness if the world would break her. No, not fragile. But soft in the sense of lying in bed surrounded by warmth, the smell of home, and curled into the comfort of down sheets and the one you love, her nose nuzzling into the curve of your neck as she shrugs off waking a moment longer, and the drowsy blink of her eyes as she meets yours as slowly wakes to the day. 

That kind of soft.

Combined with the earnestness of her tone and the gentle murmur that carried her words, Cat felt her heart flutter in its space within her chest.

She hoped that Kara couldn't feel it, given their closeness, let alone hear it.

"Well done, Kara," she conceded moments later, too focused on Kara to realize that they had left the ground, drifting slowly upwards. 

Cat saw the top of the building give way to the open air in the periphery, causing her heart to give a start. 

"Are you alright, Miss Grant?" Kara questioned as Cat’s eyes had fallen closed and her posture stiffened, a look of discomfort painted on her features.

Cat sucked in a breath through her nose, concentrating on the feel of Kara’s warm hands as they sat on her hips and less on the wind that toyed with her hair. "I suppose it would be poor timing now to say that I'm afraid of heights,” she grumbled. 

She felt Kara pull her closer, a breath separating them, and though she could not see Kara’s face, she could hear the smile in her tone. 

"I've got you," Kara murmured, and then, softer, "always."

And Cat thought then that if she opened her eyes, the intense look she would see would cause her to fall—in an entity different way.

Kara continued to guide them slowly through the open sky, before they ascended into the ceiling of gray clouds. Cat’s eyes opened at the feel of cool wetness surrounding her, a slight chill shaking through her, before Kara began to guide them higher a little faster. 

And then they had broken through the clouds, the dreary gray exploding into gorgeous color. 

Kara’s eyes slipped closed, a soft flutter of lashes against her cheek, the rays of the sun a welcoming caress to her face, and it was if she could breathe for the first time in days. Her head tilted back as she sucked in a breath, the light washing over her as she felt warmth start to spread from within her chest, radiating throughout her, feeling renewed strength already.

Suddenly she didn’t feel as lost—the world, once tilted on its axis righted itself, or perhaps it was her that was righted to the view the world. 

And in the dying light of the day, the darkness within her the past few days seamlessly fell away. 

Cat took in the newly revealed surroundings, marveled at the hues of pinks, oranges, and yellows, as she had never seen in quite a way before. The sun was still bright, even nearing its final moments, as it splayed out against the endless stretch of sky, its rays reaching out to kiss the horizon. 

And Cat’s heart stilled then, not at the sight of the picturesque landscape, but rather at the way in which the light fell over Kara’s face in that moment. 

Kara’s face was half in shadow, having positioned them perpendicular to the sun, lest she block Cat’s view. 

So conscientious, even in this. 

But with her lids closed, she looked more open than Cat had ever observed, all traces of worry—of duty and obligation to others—devoid from her form. The nervous tics of her assistant gone; the solid stance of a hero with the weight of the world upon her shoulders relaxed. 

For the first time since Cat could remember, Kara seemed to be truly at peace. 

Cat thought that perhaps, in this moment, the person before her now was neither Kara Danvers or Supergirl, but someone else entirely. 

_Who I am to the world, to my family, friends, to you...I can’t always separate it out into black and white. It’s all a part of me._

"It's beautiful up here," Cat remarked, her gaze pausing in observation of the surrounding sky before settling on Kara’s face. "You're not even looking," she said, a hint of disbelief to her tone.

"No, Miss Grant," Kara smiled, eyes still shut. "Sometimes you don't need to look to see the beauty in things," Kara said softly, pensively, before her smile turned larger. "You just have to feel it."

"I can feel the sun—feel it making me stronger," and it even showed in Kara’s voice, devoid of the weary exhaustion that had plagued her earlier. "I can feel it's warmth." 

After a moment, she murmured, "Its the closest reminder to my mother's touch." 

Ironic as it was. But Kara had considered the sentiment before. The red sun of Krypton offered no such comfort, no guiding strength when she stood beneath its light. That belonged purely her mother. Her grace, poise, warmth—they had been the only steadying constants when disquiet fell over her conscious. Until that comfort had passed into the depths of unending darkness.

When she had first arrived here, loss pervasive throughout her very soul, the warmth she felt from the sun brought forth that faded light once more, and she knew then, foreign as this new world was, that it was not a cold, dead place. 

It was an old Kryptonian child’s story that said the souls of fallen loved ones took their place amongst the stars, forever guardian to those beneath them. 

If Kara chose to believe it, she would have posed that she recognized the warmth, the strength, the sense of calm that the sun inspired within her. She had known it all her life, merely in a different form.

"I can feel the stillness of everything from up here," Kara continued, "it's like all the chaos just falls away for a little while."

She could hear everything—or nothing; the sounds of a city crying out in its need, or the deafness of silence. 

Everything fell into such balance, and Kara simply...existed.

Kara’s eyes drew open, taking in Cat’s form bathed in the warm, golden hue of the setting sun. 

And when she looked into her eyes, she felt lost again—lost into the brown depths of her eyes. Although this time, she wasn’t sure she wanted to be found. 

Their gazes remained locked before a small shiver racked through Cat’s relaxed pose, prompting Kara’s attention. "Are you cold, Miss Grant?" 

Kara’s glanced around at the open air around them in consideration before she said, “I guess that it can get a little drafty up here.”

Cat rolled her eyes, the chill roving through her once more. "You wouldn't know, you're hotter than a toaster oven," she remarked, leaning into Kara’s heat as she said so.

Kara allowed a laugh to escape her lips before one of her hands slowly left Cat’s hip, reaching behind her to grab a hold of her cape. She brought the billowing red cape around Cat’s back to where her other hand lie waiting on her waist, catching the fabric between her digits and the curve of Cat’s hip. 

"Is that better?" A small smile slipping over Cat’s lips was the only answer she received. 

The intimate embrace held the wind at bay, enough to quiet the shivers coursing through Cat’s body, before the closeness of Kara’s warmth registered and began to seep through her. And Cat felt content and at peace, as if everything fit together in this moment perfectly. 

Kara turned her gaze back to the sun, absorbing the last of its strength in the final minutes before it was kissed by the horizon, before Cat’s voice reached her ears.

"It really is a shame," Cat paused, her eyes searching despite the calmness that presided over her features, "you having to wear those glasses all of the time," she finished, something in her gaze that Kara could not quite read. 

The sun was forgotten. 

The silence settled around them, before Cat began anew, the same direct openness that she so rarely displayed overlying her tone. "Thank you, Kara, for sharing this with me."

And as the sun bid goodbye, its last rays reaching towards the heavens, the two of them continued in their intimate hold of the moment, and Kara no longer felt that a piece of her went with the setting of the sun. 

"I'll take you back now, Miss Grant," Kara whispered, cape falling back into place, the intimacy of their embrace broken. 

This time, on their descent, Cat’s eyes remained open for the length entire, her gaze never leaving the blue of Kara’s eyes. 

Kara touched them down gently, returned to the balcony of CatCo once more, her feet connecting with the concrete of the landing in a silent thud. 

Her hands found purchase on Cat’s forearms, her fingertips brushing her elbows as she used the grip to guide Cat off the top of her boots. But at the touch of Cat’s feet to steady ground, Kara didn’t retreat, pinned in place by the force of the moment, her eyes never leaving Cat’s. 

“Kara—” Cat whispered, her gaze flickering down to Kara’s lips.

Kara swallowed thickly, desperately trying to hold back the force of emotion threatening to spill up from her chest. 

And the intensity of the moment, the heatedness of Cat’s gaze—she thought she would melt before both. Suddenly it was too much, she was no longer certain she could keep the tumultuous waves of emotion at bay within her. She cleared her throat, still choking on her words, heartbreakingly remorseful. “I’m sorry, Miss Grant, I have to go.”

Kara’s touch fell from Cat’s arms, replaced with the cool caress of the evening air, as Kara’s retreat brought her but few steps away before Cat’s voice halted her movements. 

“Wait.” 

A sigh spilled from Kara’s lips, and with it a prayer to whatever deity listening for strength—whether it was strength of conviction or the strength to walk away, she didn’t know. All she could discern was that her legs were weakened, only the strength of her will propelling her away from all that was held in Cat’s gaze. And such strength was rapidly fading.

Steeling herself, she turned to face Cat, the pain sparking in her chest matched in her eyes, “I need you Cat," she admitted, "more than you know." Her tone dripped with a sadness that caused Cat’s heart to stutter as she breathed out, "but I can't lose you."

That same sense of longing that invaded Kara at first mention of the sun’s absence earlier was evident again. The light that had been in her eyes moments before had fled; Cat imagined the look across her features now would be the same as if Kara could gaze upon the sun but for one last time. The longing was poignant, desperate even, but was overwhelmed with devastated resignation. 

She took a measured step toward where Kara remained still, even her posture curled in defeat. “Why would you lose me?” Cat pushed, knowing the answer but desperate to hear it from Kara’s own lips. 

Kara stepped back a pace, an unconscious defense to the pry. Her thoughts faltered, not quite able to give the question accurate voice, before she managed, “For this,” a hand gesturing between them, desperately wishing for Cat to understand what her words would not say. Until—

"Tell me how you really feel Kara."

Kara’s head began to swim, weighed down with the thoughts of loss and longing, devastation and surrender. 

"Cat, please."

A flash of pain stabbed in her chest, and she felt that if it continued, it might rip her open, and the contents of her soul that she kept so closely packed away would spill out.

"No." Cat stalked toward her, her eyes alight with a fiery passion. "If you're going to insist on torturing yourself because you're too afraid to take what you really want–"

"I'm not afraid," Kara weakly shot back, although no strength backed her words as they fizzled into the air. 

Cat was pushing and pushing, her voice questioning, wanting—wanting something Kara didn’t know if she could give her. 

"Yes you are Kara," Cat said, coming to stop directly before her. "You're running away from this," she challenged. “You’ve been running since the start.” 

_Not good enough_

And Kara knew then that the sense of longing she had felt earlier—the piece of her that was missing—wasn’t the sun at all. 

Except she had been looking for the wrong salvation all along. Here she was, cast right back into the middle of the ocean, adrift. Here, before her now, she felt it poignantly, coursing through her soul—whether to find the strength to keep floating or to concede to the unknown abyss. 

"I can't," Kara choked on the words. 

_You mean too much to me_

And she felt herself slipping. 

“You’re too afraid to admit what you want,” Cat accused, the harsh edge to her tone burning through Kara. “And you want to take the easy way out and brush it aside instead of confronting what you feel,” she pressed on.

_You're threatening to tear me apart_

The tightening in her chest intensified and it was if she couldn’t breathe. And then she was drowning. She couldn’t float anymore, the vast expanse had finally won and pulled her under and she was caught in this maelstrom of an abyss.

“But you’re not going to run anymore,” Cat said, a hair’s breadth away. 

_Then tell me why Kara!_

She was tumbling and tumbling as it wreaked its wrath upon her. And suddenly she didn’t care if she ever gazed upon the sun again. Rao, she would give that away to put an end this onslaught. The roar of the waves deafened her and if she could just quiet the noise she could fight back, she swore could find her way back to the surface again.

"Please, Cat—“ she whispered desperately, unable to meet the piercing gaze.

And she didn’t know if the roar was her own heartbeat or if she was well and truly lost, with each deafening thud pulling her further under. The havoc was ripping through her, ripping her apart, and it reached within her and left nothing hidden as it just burned and hurt and—

Cat’s hands came up to frame Kara’s face, drawing Kara’s eyes to her own as she whispered, just as softly, Kara’s own plea so long ago falling from her lips. 

"Can't you just trust me?" 

And the world quieted. The tumultuous waves receded, the bedlam eroded by that touch, steadying her, grounding her. Freeing her. And the deafening roar quieted, chased away by the softness of that tone, tenderness arisen unbidden. And now—

Silence.

...

The silence of the answer. 

_You already know why_

Kara’s eyes fell closed, her head bowed as her defenses crumbled away, leaving but the truth in its wake.

"I'm in love with you."

She choked on the words, broken and desperate. Kara turned her head the slightest, pressing a delicate kiss to the palm that cradled her face, before she sunk down to her knees, and if it was in defeat or surrender or prayer, she didn’t know which.

"I'm yours. I am yours to love, yours to ruin. I am yours to command. Everything I am is nothing, if not yours.”

And as she bowed her head once more, kneeled before her, Kara knew that in the face of everything she had become, who she was, who she would become—it meant nothing without Cat. 

_To know that you had that control, that power, over one of the most powerful people on the planet_

_Would that be enough?_

Her admission hung in the air between them, the silence stretching on as Kara was still unable to look up and meet Cat’s eyes. And with each passing second, she felt the cold tendrils of unending nothingness begin to grip her,

And then—

"Then come take what you want."

Kara gasped, her eyes shooting up to Cat’s eyes. A genuine smile painted Cat’s face, her eyes so full of passion, and—Kara dared to hope—love. 

"Normally the gaping fish routine looks adorable on you, but I could think of better uses for your mouth than to have it hanging open collecting flies," Cat said flippantly, her hip cocked. 

In her haste, Kara flew up, her super speed propelling Cat backwards against the wall as she rested in front of her, a palm on either side of her head, trapping Cat to her gaze. 

Given their history, it somehow seemed fitting that they would find themselves here again. 

"Cat–" she breathed out, hesitation and questioning evident in her tone.

Cat reached up a hand to touch a blonde lock, curling it around her finger, watching it bounce into place. 

"You were never alone in this Kara," Cat said meeting her gaze. 

Kara saw nothing but open truth reflected back at her.

"I want you. All of you."

Kara’s hands had dropped from the wall to Cat’s hips as she pulled her in, Cat’s own hand ruffled in her hair, the other finding Kara’s waist as the distance between them closed and her eyes fluttered shut as their lips met. 

And Kara was no longer simply not lost.

She was home.

"Easy," Cat said, needing to take a breath minutes later. Her hand slipped from the silky strands Kara’s hair, finding purchase on the back of her neck.

"I'm so sorry Cat, I–" Cat pulled her back in for another kiss, interrupting the apology.

After moments more, the two parted the slightest, Kara leaning her forehead contently against Cat’s.

“We still have to work on the apologizing,” Cat teased, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment before they opened to Kara’s hopeful face once more. 

"What happens now?" Kara questioned softly, the thumb rested on Cat’s hip finding the gap between the edge of her blouse and the top of her skirt, unconsciously caressing the soft skin there. 

Cat’s grin widened, the hand on Kara’s hip moving to wrap around her neck as it clasped with the other. 

"We start slow," she murmured gently, echoing her words from what felt a lifetime ago. "It'll come to us,” she concluded, watching the soft smile on Kara’s face set her eyes alight. 

"Unless you're talking about the bedroom, and then by all means—" Cat added, teasingly, amused at the scandalized expression that overtook Kara’s face. 

"The bedroom?” Kara squeaked out, swallowing nervously. 

Cat laughed in reply, leaning in to press a kiss lightly to her cheek, before she extracted herself from the wall, moving past Kara toward the balcony door. 

As she reached the threshold to the interior, Cat threw a glance over her shoulder at Kara filled with such a previously uncharacteristic love and tenderness, before she disappeared back inside the building. 

As Kara moved to follow her, she knew then, sun or no sun, she would never feel lost again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are at the end of our journey.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, gave kudos, or generally made it through this twenty thousand word lengthy read. Your support means the world! 
> 
> I do so hope you enjoyed it! 
> 
> Any suggestions for future fics, drop a comment here or on tumblr at doorengray.


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